


Fate Or Something Better

by geckoholic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Acts Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean/Castiel, the wilderness and a lack of clothes. That's basically it. Slightly kinky PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate Or Something Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dorianpavus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorianpavus/gifts).



> Based on her 5 acts wishlist, especially 'trust' and 'discomfort or pain during sex'.
> 
> Sargraf looked this over. Thanks! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Title is from "Anna Molly" by Incubus.

He should be embarrassed by this. There's a part of him that is, in fact, terribly ashamed of the way he's lying there on the bare ground with the gravel biting into the naked skin of his back on every thrust and his legs held so far apart that he's _this close_ to straining the muscles in his upper thighs, and moaning at a volume that would put porn stars to shame. 

The rest of him is having too much fun – too lost in pure, blissful pleasure – to give a damn. 

When they first started fucking, Cas had been slow, gentle, and careful as if he might break Dean if he were too rough. Which, hey. _Angel._ So, maybe he's capable of snapping Dean apart like a twig, in a very literal sense, but that's exactly the point. 

He could. But Dean trusts him not to. 

It's not just the fact that Cas and brutality – lethal force used at leisure and for the sake of it – don't mix in Dean's head. Cas very rarely uses his strength outside of a fight. He doesn't make a show of it, doesn't use it to intimidate or to threaten. No, the real reason Dean knows that Cas would rather stab himself with his own blade than do Dean any harm is the way he looks at him, the way he behaves when they're alone. He stares at him with so much wonder, so much unfiltered affection and kindness, treats him as if he's the most marvelous thing he has ever encountered. 

And Dean doesn't know what to do with that. He's not used to it – neither to being the center of someone's attention nor to said someone handling him like he's fragile and precious. 

He can deal with Cas much better when he's got the angel out of his mind with want and lust, when the look of wonder gets replaced by a ravenous desire to take Dean every way he can. It took a while to get him there, make him submit to the baser human instinct, but it's been worth it. Eventually, Cas got the memo: Dean doesn't want to be worshiped and taken care of. He wants to be _fucked_. 

And that's what Cas is currently doing. They've been on a solo hunt, but now the Wendigo is dead, burnt and buried. Sam is off to research seals with Bobby and the two of them are back at their little campsite by the mountain. 

It's after midnight, pitch-dark, and Dean can hardly see Cas's face as Cas slams into him again and again, at a hard and relentless pace. They didn't quite make it to the tent, so Cas spread him out right there on the rough ground, shoved in a little too soon after a cursory prep, and the mixture of pain – from the sharp little stones that pierce into his back as well as the renewed burn every time Cas bottoms out – and pleasure due to the way Cas brushes his prostate on almost every thrust drives Dean straight out of his mind. 

In this exact moment, there's nothing else in the world but the conflicting signals that shoot through his nerves, the throaty noises Cas makes above him, and the smell of damp grass and burning wood from the campfire that fills the air all around them. 

Dean doesn't know how long they've been at it when Cas pulls out, flips him onto his side, and crawls behind him. He takes a moment to nibble at Dean's earlobe, feather kisses along his jaw and neck, before he bites down at his shoulder at the same time as he pushes back into him in one quick shove. It makes Dean keen and arch his back, and Cas holds him in place with a bruising grip on his hips. 

"Shhh," he whispers into Dean's skin. "Hold still. _Let me._ "

And Dean does, resists the urge to fuck himself on Cas' cock. He closes his eyes to the sensation, bites his lip to give himself another counterpoint to focus on, but all that is useless when Cas lets go of his hip and wraps his hand around Dean's dick. It doesn't take much, one or two skillful tugs in sync with his thrusts, and Dean's coming. His hips snap forward involuntarily, he cries out and he's only vaguely aware of Cas' pressing his head to his shoulder and following him over the edge. 

There's a brief discomfort when Cas pulls out, enough to make Dean hiss. He's already sore, knows he's going to feel this for days, and he wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
